Jaagup Mägi, bs crave grind at Lippumäki bowl.
Summer kicked down the door like a drunk Viking with a flaming deck—so we packed our boards, burned the shop calendar, and bolted north. Nico punched out, laced up his waffle soles, and hurled himself into the mystical pines of Finland, chasing transition dreams and fermented fish fantasies.
First stop: Kuopio—a land of endless lakes and endless lines, where the water glows like liquid chrome and the locals carve like it’s a religion. Enter Jaagup Mägi: Estonian maniac, bowl barbarian, and unrepentant transition addict. He heard the call—like a werewolf to the full moon—and joined the mission. Two days in Lippumäki, a concrete cauldron built for speed, pain, and divine revelation.
Jani Mäkelä, transfer to disaster.
Day one: carnage. Jaagup dropped into the bowl like it owed him money and devoured every line like a starving beast. He conquered the cake on the pocket, and victory was declared. Birthday cake? Yes—baked by destiny, served with pure destruction and sprinkles on top.
Special mention to Meelis Erm, who missed the trip due to birthday duties—his own, no less. The air smelled like sweat, urethane, and muscle cream.
Jaagup Mägi, bs nose grab.
Jaagup, Jani and Nico.
Day two: enter the wizard. Bearded friend, Jani Mäkelä, forest sorcerer and best skate spot fixer, led us through the trees to the Iso-Kallan Panimo Brewery DIY park—a secret shelter for winter warriors and rain-dodging lunatics. Curb. Mini ramp. Slalom snake line of doom. Stoke was everywhere, hiding in the corners, waiting to ambush you.
Lee Ralph? Nope—Jaagup Mägi, barefoot on a polarizer deck, screaming like it’s the 1960s all over again!
Teemu Salonen, carving lines so hot the asphalt starts whispering—melting urethane, maybe melting his brain. Pick your poison.
Jani Mäkelä.
And then—like a phoenix in Vans—he appeared: Lare Vee, Finland’s freestyle Frankenstein, influencer of the damned, old pal and chaos magnet. We sessioned like madmen in a heatwave, hotter than a reindeer’s backside in July. Melting. Screaming. Living.
Lare Vee, blasting freestyle out of the graveyard and into the flow—zero fear, all style!
Lare Vee—sweat-soaked in that battered Vision Street Wear tee, charging like he’s got one life and zero doubts. He won’t die wondering—he’ll die mid-slam, laughing.
We came up for air, cracked our bones back into place, and hit Lippumäki again—this time joined by Antti Lampinen and Jyrki Liukkonen soldiers of the shred. The crew was locked and loaded. Next stop: the dark heart of Finland. Muurame. Havumäki Ranch. Madness awaits.
Jani Mäkelä—launching out of the mini like a bat shot from a slingshot made of punk records and broken trucks. That transfer? He’s been nailing it since VHS ruled the earth!
Teemu Salonen flip to pivot.
TO BE CONTINUED…
Next episode: The land of Alvar Aalto, DIY madness, and an unholy Ranch bowl session. Bring sunscreen and good vibes—this trip’s heating up!
Antti Lampinen—FS grind on the oververt, hanging on by guts, grip, and sheer disregard for self-preservation. Concrete doesn’t scare this dude.
Jyrki Liukkonen, soaring into the deep end with the calm of a believer—board beneath him, courage above. Thy will be done, holy frontside ollie.
Jaagup Mägi—riding Finnish concrete with the stylish rock ’n’ roll of Estonia, just like Johnny Paycheck said: “Take this job and shove it” — only he’s taking the style and making it his own.
After the bowl section, Antti Lampinen locks a frontside boardslide on the rail—smooth, tight, and no mercy.
Jyrki Liukkonen—felt like the ’90s all over again, unstoppable as he shows his daughters (seen in the back) how a proper session ends: with style and grit.
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